


Blood Sports

by MadHattersPet



Category: Mozart l'Opéra Rock - Mozart/Baguian & Guirao
Genre: F/F, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-15
Updated: 2014-10-26
Packaged: 2018-02-17 13:21:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2311091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadHattersPet/pseuds/MadHattersPet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Well okay folks, this is where the ride gets started.  From here on out trigger warnings for violence, torture and murder apply.  Between Salieri and Mozart there will be consensually violent sex.  For every chapter I will include any other, extra trigger warnings.  Have fun, but take care of yourselves my darlings, its gonna be a dark ride from here on out.</p><p>A special thanks to Miss_Shiva_Adler and her girlfriend BelgianWhovian who did a marvellous cosplay of Mozart and Salieri and included a few photos that give me some inspirtation</p><p>http://miss-shiva-adler.tumblr.com/post/100842732843/belgianwhovian-f-a-c-t-s-2014-salieri</p></blockquote>





	1. Prologue

Things always started out with games between them. Friendly little rivalries to help their genius burn brighter. A sonata here, a symphony there, every note lower, darker, more challenging than the last. Salieri reveled in it. Reveled in the way Mozart lit up with an inner fire at their games. Loved the way the nobles shrank from Mozart’s glorious madness.  
Mozart enjoyed Salieri’s friendship, and their rivalry. Finally, there was someone to match him, to spur him onto greater and greater heights. Together, they were expanding beyond the limited bounds of the court. In the privacy of their rooms, even Salieri let go of his emotions to create music that reached into Mozart’s soul and brought forth emotions the strength of which scared him on some dark nights.  
Together, together they were immortal; together their music would bring Vienna to its knees.  
Things began to escalate rather unexpectedly one night. They had locked themselves in Salieri’s house, frantically composing and Mozart was beginning to get restless, legs twitching and refusing to remain still. Fed up, Salieri reached over and forcibly grabbed Mozart’s knee, “My friend, do you need a break?”  
The other composer sighed heavily, “I’m sorry my friend, but I think I do.”  
“I can order some dinner, we can move to a new room.”  
Mozart shook himself, “I need to move,” He stood, pacing quickly around the room, “I need to get my blood moving on pace with the music.”  
“We can use my drawing room and move the furniture, whatever you need.”  
Mozart clasped his shoulder, “Thank you my friend.”  
Together, they moved from Salieri’s study to his drawing room, quickly moving the settee and armchairs against the wall to make room. Mozart stripped off his coat and untied his cravat with terse movements and shucked them over the arm of one of the armchairs. Salieri hovered by the door, unsure if he was welcome. Mozart seemed almost unaware of his existence as he untucked his shirt in the back and pulled out a dagger and assumed a starting position before sliding into a series of thrusts and parries, moving fluidly throughout the room.  
Salieri’s breath caught in his throat. It was like seeing the darkest parts of Mozart’s music come to life to move with deadly intent in his drawing room. It tore through his soul and dragged a rush of feeling into his gut, surprising him with its vehemence. He drew in several ragged breaths, ignoring the carnal, physical reaction of his body, to focus solely on Mozart’s movements. Unbeknownst to him, Salieri’s body shifted and twitched, moving in aborted directions, trying to follow and weave with Mozart.  
As his blood flowed more quickly through his veins and his muscles loosened, Mozart became aware of the eyes on him. He knew what desire felt like on his skin and oh, the desire radiating from his friend was scorching him through his clothes, like a physical touch coveting his movements. Without a conscious decision, Mozart’s movement become more sensual, knife caressing the air, taunting it and teasing it and then penetrating it with a sharp thrust.  
Eventually the moment hung balanced on the air and Mozart drew to a stop, head tilted towards Salieri, pupils blown. Things between them altered as their eyes locked and each acknowledged the sudden—if not totally unexpected—desire, and the darkness inherent in it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well okay folks, this is where the ride gets started. From here on out trigger warnings for violence, torture and murder apply. Between Salieri and Mozart there will be consensually violent sex. For every chapter I will include any other, extra trigger warnings. Have fun, but take care of yourselves my darlings, its gonna be a dark ride from here on out.
> 
> A special thanks to Miss_Shiva_Adler and her girlfriend BelgianWhovian who did a marvellous cosplay of Mozart and Salieri and included a few photos that give me some inspirtation
> 
> http://miss-shiva-adler.tumblr.com/post/100842732843/belgianwhovian-f-a-c-t-s-2014-salieri

They hadn’t spoken of it.  By a silent agreement, they had simply returned to the study to compose.  However, Salieri found himself sitting closer to Mozart, letting himself brush against the other man.  A clasp to his bicep reminded the Italian of the strength hidden under coat sleeves.  A touch of their fingers reminded Salieri of how they’d looked curled around the hilt of a dagger.  Salieri wasn’t sure who he was teasing; himself, or Mozart.

They let things continue as they had been; attending small parties, composing, rehearsals.  Mozart continued to make Rosenberg turn pink with indignation.  Perhaps they could have stayed that way, teetering on the edge forever, but one night things changed again.

Salieri was walking home, two blocks from his house when two men stopped him.  His heart started to pound as the shorter one pulled a knife out of his coat pocket.

“Give me your purse, no funny business now”

Slowly, Salieri began to reach into his pockets, “I don’t carry very much money on me.”

The man sneered, “Like we’re going to believe that.  Give it all to us, or we’ll leave you on the pavement.”

 

Mozart whistled as he walked towards Salieri’s home.  They had agreed to meet up after the rehearsals for Salieri’s new opera.  A few blocks away, he stopped cold, spying Salieri backed up against a wall by two men, obviously robbers.  A chill settled into his stomach and Mozart’s heart sped up, pounding hard enough to shake his shirt.  He stepped towards the group, reaching back for the knife he always carried.  Up until today it had always been there just as a precaution; he’d never used it on a human before.  Never needed to.

Salieri looked over the taller one’s shoulder at the sound of heels ringing on the pavement.

 “I suggest you drop that and leave,” Mozart’s voice was low, anger barely contained.

The taller one turned to face the new arrival, “Oh yeah?  And if we don’t?”

Some small part of his brain marveled that he hadn’t flinched when Mozart drove his knife through the taller ones stomach and turned cold eyes to the smaller one, whose knife was still pointed at Salieri.  The would-be robber’s knife trembled in his fist.  “Who the hell are you?”

“Wolfgang Amadeaus Mozart, at your service.”

The smaller one put up a token resistance, managing to get in a lucky punch that split Mozart’s lip, but ultimately, Mozart’s knife cut his throat open.  The moment hung in the air, red blood painting the walls and street.  Salieri’s eyes met Mozart’s over the corpses.  The Austrian’s pupils were blown wide and his lips were parted to allow his panting breaths to escape. 

The quiet was shattered by voices ringing out around the corner.  Salieri reached for Mozart’s hand and they sprinted towards his house.  Salieri threw his door open, pulled Mozart into the house, and slammed the door behind them. 

He rested his head on Mozart’s shoulder, adrenaline shaking through his body.  Mozart’s empty hand came up to card through his hair.

“My God, you killed them.  You killed them,” the Italian breathed out against Mozart’s chest.

“I did.  I killed them for you.”

Startled, Salieri looked up, face dizzyingly close to Mozart’s.  “For me.”

A small part of his brain was screaming that everything about this was wrong.  He should be calling the police.  He should be pushing Mozart away.  There was blood dripping on his floor!  But Mozart’s eyes were dark and compelling.

“You should put the knife away,” Salieri muttered instead.

“Right,” Mozart looked down at the bloody knife, and then leaned over to set it on the hall table.

“The blood is going to stain,” despite the insanity of the situation, Salieri couldn’t help but worry about how he was going to clean up.

“Blood always stains.  It taints everything.” Mozart was staring at his hand, which was also covered blood.

“Wolfgang?”   

Slowly, Mozart raised the blood covered hand to Salieri’s face, and gently smeared the tacky blood over the Italian’s lips, painting his lips.

“Now we’re both tainted.”

As Salieri reached for Mozart to kiss him, he thought that the other was wrong.  Salieri had been tainted ever since he’d met the other.

The kiss was messy and desperate, and the taste of blood permeated it, but it was the best kiss Mozart had ever participated in.  He gripped Salieri’s coat, tearing it off the other composer.  In his haste to get to skin, Mozart felt his nails tear Salieri’s skin.  The other composer let out a low groan and grabbed Mozart’s hair, pulling it back and biting his throat.

Mozart’s hips thrust forward, pressing against Salieri and finding an answering erection. “Fuck.”

Salieri was sure he was losing his mind as his hands shifted down to grab Mozart’s ass, grinding their hips together.  The pleasure was discordant, focused on the thrusts of their hips and the bite of Mozart’s nails on his skin.  It zig-zagged through him, tearing at his mind and pulling him further down into the darkness waiting for him.  He bit Mozart again, hoping that the sensation would ground him, but the moan that fled from the other’s throat just lifted him higher on the wave of pleasure.

Mozart moaned as Salieri’s teeth bit into him over and over, leaving bruises and breaking skin, _marking_ him.  He’d known for a while that there was desire between them, just waiting for the right catalyst.  He’d planned to woo Salieri with music, to slide into the other composer’s life and settle there, twined around his heart until he could do nothing else but allow Mozart in.  Fate had decided to speed things up, giving him the most unexpected catalyst.

There was a moment, just before his climax became inevitable, when Salieri thought he might have the will to push back, to tear Mozart from him and call the police.  But he made the mistake of looking into the Austrian’s eyes, and he was lost.

“Wolfgang!” he cried as his orgasm tore through him, sealing him in the darkness.  Salieri reached out, gripping tightly to hair and shoulders, trying to stay grounded.  He slumped, spent, as Mozart’s hips thrust a few more time against him, and then he too felt climax wash over him. 

Together, the two leaned against the door; breathing in the same air and holding each other, feeling the last of the adrenaline leave their bodies. 


End file.
